3

Caitlin’s three constant companions bickered incessantly deep inside her head. The old crone Brigid cackled and mocked, much to the irritation of the neurotic Briony, while Amy pleaded and whimpered for them to stop. Caitlin had learned to fade them out so that she had some respite to hear her own thoughts, but every now and then they would break back through. No peace, ever.

‘You can’t have him. He belongs to someone else,’ Briony was saying in her snide tones.

‘I don’t want him. That doesn’t mean I can’t like him,’ Caitlin said, then looked around in case any of the others were near enough to hear her talking to herself.

‘She’s already forgotten Grant.’ Brigid cackled. ‘Out of sight, deep in the ground, out of mind.’

‘I haven’t!’ Tears sprang to Caitlin’s eyes. Was there some truth in what Brigid said? Was she forgetting her husband? It couldn’t be — the grief was still sharp.

‘And what about Thackeray? Isn’t he your boyfriend?’ Amy’s innocent voice made her questions even more poignant.

‘I don’t know where he is. Leave me alone!’ Caitlin clutched at her head. Silence, that was all she wanted, and there were times when she thought she would only find that in death. Never alone, she felt so alone.

She caught sight of Mallory across the aisle and three stacks down. He didn’t see her. A tingle ran down her back and into her groin, followed by a pang of guilt. The feelings were mysterious in origin, and she did her best to suppress them, but they were growing stronger. As long as she could keep them locked away there wouldn’t be a problem.

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